Two young Ukrainian pianists gave a startling joint recital Sunday afternoon in the
Florence Gould Theater at the Legion of Honor: 16-year-old Dinara Nadzhafova
from Kharkov and 20-year-old Ilya Petrov from Krivoy Rog. Each has won a fistful
of prizes before receiving a Guzik Foundation Award for international appearances.
Sunday's Guzik pair opened the 2006 Chamber Music San Francisco season with
performances in which the musicianship trumped even their formidable dexterity.

Nadzhafova played the first half of the longish recital, mostly devoted to Chopin
standards: the Ballade No. 1 in G Minor, Op. 23, and the dozen
Études, Op. 10. As a pleasant surprise, she replaced the two Chopin
nocturnes originally announced for the program with the rarely played Prelude and
Fugue in G-sharp Minor, Op. 29, by Sergei Taneyev. Audience reaction was so
enthusiastic that Nadzhafova had to play two encores: Liszt's showbiz Hungarian
Rhapsody No. 6 in D-flat Major and a small lyric piece I know not.

The square-jawed, muscular Petrov walked on stage looking more like a shy
collegiate wrestler than a sensitive musician, then proved how deceiving looks can
be. He played a Liszt survey for the second part, including three of the popular
"Paganini" etudes; Liszt's piano transcription of his song Sonetto del Petrarca
No. 104; "Feux follets" (Will-o'-the-wisps), the fifth of the Transcendental
Etudes; “Un sospiro” (A sigh), third of the Three Concert Etudes; and
the big Rapsodie espagnole. The crowd was again raving, but Petrov offered
only the one encore, a knock-your-socks-off performance of Horowitz' favorite encore,
Moritz Moszkowski's Étincelles (Sparks), Op. 36, No. 6.

Extraordinary talents

Both of these pianists are solid technicians, but, more important, both are
individual, original, and highly expressive players. I was especially impressed by
Nadzhafova's performance of the Taneyev, a piece new to me by a composer of
great worth who is too rarely programmed today. A student of and long time friend
of Tchaikovsky, Taneyev was also a virtuoso pianist, an important teacher as well as
composer. (His students included both Scriabin and Rachmaninov.) Taneyev
became an academic force in Russian music, serving as teacher then
director at the Moscow Conservatory. Besides writing an impressive array of music,
he published a compendium, Invertible Counterpoint in the Strict Style in
1909, a tome still in use as a counterpoint text.

Little wonder that he could turn out such a large-scale, wonderfully full Prelude
and Fugue. The Romantic element was present in full during the Chopinesque
nocturnal Prelude, elegantly flowing under Nadzhafova's tasteful fingers. Then
came the brilliant ripple of the triplet-heavy Fugue, as fully achieved as most of
Bach's, only with the big return of the Prelude's theme near the close  a 19th
century cliché, yet handsomely accomplished by virtue of Taneyev's steady
craftsmanship. Taneyev is a major composer, waiting in the wings for a major
revival.

Chopin's two volumes of 12 etudes each are among the most fiercely difficult things
in piano literature, real knuckle busters. Indeed, that's why even major piano
virtuosos in general never played all of them in public. That's even been true of
great Chopin specialists like Artur Rubinstein, a pianist who recorded nearly all the
major Chopin canon but never included the popular etudes. When I asked why,
during an interview, Rubinstein closed his eyes, pulled back his head as if praying to
heaven, and began vigorously fingering the coffee table before him as if playing one.
Suddenly, he stopped, stared at me, shrugged and said, “Because I'm afraid,”
before we both had a good chuckle. Most famous pianists play a few, but only the
dreadnoughts attempt an entire opus dozen. It's not merely their individual
difficulties, but the emotional extremes required to get through them, as well. When it
happens and comes off well, as it did on Sunday, the result is enormously
impressive.

Broad variety of mood

The maturity of Nadzhafova's performances was as impressive as her dexterity. Her
timbral variety, her formal clarity, and her perfect tempos were irreproachable. She
could roar through the stormy first and final “Revolutionary” etudes, bring fairy
tinkle to the “Black Key” and “Butterfly,” but turn around into the dark Romantic
musings of the E-flat minor Sixth Etude with equal aplomb. The more overtly flashy
horrors of the C-sharp Minor didn't seem to phase her; it was as though she were
breezing through a lesser piece of Erik Satie. If I have any one quibble, it's that she
had a slight tendency to overemphasize the left hand's bass line, but this was only a
momentary problem here and there. That problem did not show up at all for her
Liszt dessert, played largely for its pyrotechnical effect, but transfusing new blood
into that old warhorse, the Sixth Rhapsody. And all this from a 16-year-old? Unreal.

Still, in all, I found her playing of the First Ballade the most impressive performance
of all. One rarely hears this disconsolate piece played so poetically, so unhurried, or
with more profundity of concept. Only when she reached those final pages of
Chopin's violent outburst did she let go with a quickened tsunami of keyboard
bravura  and all the right notes. (Neither is a commonplace event.) Total
command of the keyboard, yes, but it was Nadzhafova's innate musicianship which
floored me. What will she play like in 10 years?

One of Nadzhafova's many awards was a second place in the 2004 Tchaikovsky
Competition for young pianists, at age 14. But if she was second, who on earth
could have been first? Perhaps Petrov?

Strength well modulated

Here was the big Russian style of Anton Rubinstein's playing in full bloom. There is
no lack of delicacy in his playing, but even in the lyric items, such as the Petrarch
sonnet and “Un sospiro,” Petrov displayed assured strength that rather reminded
me of Emil Gilels. He can tinkle his way through “Feux follets,” the music tingled
and flickered at even ultrasoft dynamic levels. But for the once standard Spanish
rhapsody, the grand sway of the traditional “La Folia” theme and equally famous
“Jota aragonesa” section, Petrov let loose the full power of his dynamic control
while avoiding any hint of pounded brute force.

That formed an amazing contrast to the refinement he brought to the three
best known of Liszt's Paganini transcriptions: the playful No. 2 in E-flat major,
subtitled “Scales and Octaves”; No. 3, “The Little Bell”; and the dizzying No. 5,
“The Chase.” Here, as in his entire program, the beauty of his piano sound and his
ability to slip into and out of fleeting accents struck me as major pianism of the
first rank.

If Petrov displayed any flaw it's that he was a little too straightforward for items
such as the “Scales and Octaves” Etude's campy connotations. One should toy with
it a little, while enjoying Liszt's joking frivolity. Petrov contented himself with
accuracy, which is desirable, but literal playing can also deflect the ultimate
pleasure of the piece  any piece of music.

This, however, was not true during the Moszkowski Sparks, which bubbled
with effervescence like a top-class champagne. Played quickly and delicately, that
was as fine a rendition as I've ever encountered  and considering that I've
heard Horowitz play it something like a dozen times in recital, that's saying
something. Some orchestra should grab up Petrov while the early option is still
open. I sensed a terrific Brahms Second Concerto in his future.

(Heuwell Tircuit is a composer, performer, and writer, who was chief writer for
Gramophone Japan, and for 21 years a music reviewer for the San
Francisco Chronicle. He wrote previously for the Chicago American and
the Asahi Evening News.)